


unfucktheworld

by higgsbosonblues



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Dan being Dan, I don't know if this counts as angst, M/M, Post-Bahrain, angsty Max, pretty much just pwp, there's not exactly a lot of character development, until he's not anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 21:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/higgsbosonblues/pseuds/higgsbosonblues
Summary: Max is furious at himself after his mistakes in Bahrain and doesn't want to celebrate with the rest of the team. Dan brings the party to him.





	unfucktheworld

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fic for a long time but...these two, man. I can't resist.

Max slumped onto the hard foam slab of the futon with a little more force than was strictly necessary. It creaked ominously in response. Max swung his legs up and flopped back more cautiously. After the way his weekend was going - hell, the way his whole season was going - it would be just his luck for the entire thing to collapse beneath him.  
  
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out with one hand while opening a can of Coke with the other and trying to pretend it was a nice cold beer.

 “U ok? Come celebrate! Saved u some fizz”, the text read. Daniel. Max sighed deeply and took a swig of his Coke. It was lukewarm. Great. 

“Don’t feel like it, sorry”, he typed back and sent. Then, feeling guilty, he followed it with, “Congrats tho, you drove an amazing race!” The compliment stuck in his throat as he sent it. He thought of Danny’s broad grin. No doubt he would be plying the crew with drinks now his press duties were out of the way. He closed his eyes and listened hard: yep, he could hear the thud of music coming from the Red Bull hospitality area. He knew he should go and make an appearance, smile and pat Dan on the back and congratulate the team. He got up reluctantly and opened the door a crack. From down the corridor he heard a burst of cheering and the music increased in volume. It was Eye of the Tiger.

Fuck it. Max picked up his phone and pulled his hood up, fishing in his pocket for the keys to the rental car. Some days were for playing nice with your teammates and some were for drinking alone in your hotel room, and this was one of the latter.

*

Several hours later, Max was frustratingly sober. The minibar in his hotel room had turned up surprisingly little in the way of hard liquor, just a mini bottle of vodka which he had drunk mixed with orange juice, and a small bottle of deeply average white wine which had started to make him feel queasy by the end of the glass. At that point he’d given up and put the TV on, flicking through until he found a channel playing some action movie he didn’t recognise but which was at least in English. 

There was a soft knock at the door. Max groaned deeply. He had a strong suspicion it was going to be Daniel, either drunk and buoyant or worse, magnanimously offering sympathy and advice. He loved the Aussie but frankly he wasn’t sure he could cope with him right now.

Another knock. “Max? It’s me.”

Max squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his thumb into the tension between his eyes. The wine seemed somehow to have made him even more wound up. He contemplated staying quiet and pretending he’d been in the shower. He realised he had been gritting his teeth and made a conscious effort to relax his jaw.

The voice came through the door again, muffled. “I saved you a bottle of champagne. You can drink it and not talk if you want. I’m sure I can amuse myself.”

“For God’s sake,” Max said under his breath and dragged himself up. He opened the door and went back to the bed without bothering to see if Daniel had followed him in. 

The door shut softly and Max looked up truculently, ready to tell Daniel to bugger off and leave him alone with his bad mood. Daniel smiled widely at him and held up a bottle of Dom Pérignon, positively radiating goodwill. Max looked from the smile to the champagne and back again, and shut his mouth. Daniel, perhaps sensing his lowered resistance, toed off his shoes and flopped down in the bed next to Max, ignoring the fact that there was not quite enough room.

“Hi,” he said, then got to work unpeeling the foil from the neck of the bottle. Max made a small, disgruntled sound and reluctantly shuffled back. Dan smelled of expensive cologne and alcohol. Max had been too busy sulking to bother with more than a rudimentary shower after the race, and was deeply aware that he probably still smelled mostly of sweat and Nomex. 

“Hi,” Max said, and then couldn’t think of anything else to say that didn’t sound unduly bitter, and fell silent again. Dan popped the champagne cork into his cupped hand expertly. Max watched him from the corner of one eye.

“Oh,” Daniel said suddenly, sitting up and digging in the pocket of his hoodie with his free hand. “I got you this too. Never say I don’t do anything for you.” He produced a chocolate muffin in a plastic shell case, looking slightly battered. 

“Thanks,” Max said, slightly taken aback, taking the case from Daniel and cracking it open. Daniel gave him a sympathetic pat on the thigh, which Max attempted to find offensive and failed, and got up to look for something to put the champagne in. Finally he settled on the water tumblers wrapped in plastic and stacked beside the fridge. Max split the muffin in half carefully and silently handed half back to Daniel when he sat down.

“Cheers, pal,” Daniel said, handing him a cup foaming with champagne in return. His attention switched to the TV. “Oh, sweet, is this Repo Man? I love this film!”

Max shrugged. “Haven’t been watching. I just put it on for the background noise.”

Daniel shook his head in horror. “Man. First you don’t come to the party, then you put on a perfectly decent film and ignore it. What’s wrong with you?”

“You tell me,” Max said gloomily, staring into his glass. 

Daniel nudged him gently. “Didn’t mean it like that, asshole.” 

They ate their muffin halves and washed it down with champagne in silence for a time. Max glanced at his companion. Daniel’s cheeks were damp and slightly flushed. He always got a little bit pink when he drank champagne. He had a sudden flashback of Daniel on the podium - where had it been? Sepang? - pouring champagne into Max’s open mouth, whooping with laughter, his hair stuck to his face. Max felt his stomach tilt, his mood sliding about in a way he couldn’t entirely define. 

He drained his cup. Although Daniel had given no indication of paying attention to anything but the television, he leaned over immediately to pick up the bottle and refill Max’s glass almost to the brim. 

“Well done on the win,” Max said eventually, staring hard at the TV so he didn’t have to make eye contact with Dan. “You drove like a demon.”

Daniel laughed at that, his voice gentle when he spoke. “Wish you’d have been up there beside me, dude. Could’ve shared my shoey.”

“Yeah, well,” Max said bleakly. “I fucked that chance up. Again.”

Daniel gave him a sidelong glance. Max was hunched in on himself, staring morosely into his tumbler. To Dan he suddenly looked more like the scrawny teenager he’d known a few years ago, covering his nerves with bravado, than the confident young man he’d become. 

He slung an arm around Max’s shoulder, pulling him close. Max made a disgruntled sound deep in his throat but allowed Dan to move him passively, leaning his weight against the older man. Dan patted his shoulder and rested his chin on Max’s head. 

The champagne was almost gone. The alcohol coupled with the soft warmth of Daniel next to him on the huge bed made Max feel pleasantly relaxed, hovering on the verge of sleepiness. His limbs felt heavy, and the twist of frustration in the pit of his stomach had receded to an acceptable level for the first time all day.

Daniel, he suspected, was now well on the way to being drunk. He was staring at the TV with a slightly glazed expression, suppressing a hiccup every now and then. He was idly rubbing circles on Max’s upper arm through the fabric of his hoodie. Max tried not to concentrate too hard on the sensation, but it was difficult not to sink into the comforting touch. 

As though reading his mind, Daniel looked down at him, smiling dazedly. They were close enough for Max to smell the sourness of the champagne on his breath, which should have been disgusting but somehow wasn’t. 

“I’m a little bit drunk,” Daniel said softly. His breath made little damp puffs against the skin of Max’s cheek. Max swallowed, suddenly inescapably aware of how close they were. The mood in the room had shifted somehow from comfortable and cosy to something more charged. The crackle of adrenaline and rage that he had worn all day like a second skin began to shift to anticipation of something else. 

“Me too,” Max said. “But maybe not as drunk as you are.”

“I have had a lot of champagne,” Daniel agreed, though his gaze had if anything sharpened. He had nice eyes, Max thought with a kind of hopeless inevitability. Dark and intense when he wasn’t playing around and making jokes.

It was not in Max’s nature to be cautious. He had built a career on it, for better or worse. And yet suddenly he found himself hanging back, caught in a moment of shyness. His face was so close to Daniel’s that he could feel his breath.

Daniel licked his lips, a nervous unconscious movement, his eyes darting from Max’s eyes to his mouth and back again. Max felt dizzy, off-kilter in a way that was wholly unrelated to the alcohol, and from his bewildered expression he could guess that Daniel felt the same. They had always been close, never been afraid to hug each other and sit practically on each other’s laps in the motor home, always enjoyed being seen as the closest friendship on the grid. But somehow Max had never considered the possibility that there was anything beneath the flirtation other than Daniel’s playful nature. Now, though, all he could think of was Daniel’s mouth so close to his, and how their bodies would feel pressed together. A small voice in his head wondered whether it was a good idea. He ignored it.

“Shit, Max,” Daniel said quietly. Their lips were practically touching. Max shifted imperceptibly so his body was angled alongside Dan’s, careful not to quite let their bodies touch. His cock was already throbbing against his thigh, probably looking pornographic through the thin fabric of his grey joggers. He didn’t dare risk a glance down to check. 

“Shit,” he agreed, blinking up into Dan’s face. Dan huffed out a laugh and twisted to face Max fully. After a moment of hesitation, he touched Max’s side, his fingers skimming lightly over the fabric of Max’s t-shirt just above the waistband of his pants. Max shuddered at the delicate touch, his lips parting in a silent gasp. Daniel’s expression darkened into something Max recognised only from footage of his eyes in the car, intent and keenly focused, taking in every tiny movement Max made and calibrating his own to match. Max took a deep breath, shut his eyes and closed the infinitesimal gap between their lips.

Daniel made a quiet noise into the kiss, part shock, part desire. His hand tightened reflexively in the fabric of Max’s shirt. He tasted like alcohol and chocolate from the muffin. Max shuddered, gooseflesh breaking out across the skin of his torso, spreading from the place where Dan’s hand clenched and unclenched. In some far-off corner of his mind, Max wondered why on earth they hadn’t done this before, why it had never occurred to him how good this would feel. He parted his lips, letting Dan deepen the kiss, wanton. 

Max rolled back, tugging Dan with him. Dan almost fell against him, catching himself at the last moment and bracing on one strong arm over Max’s left shoulder. Max drew him down without hesitation, bolder now, the sound of their breathing heavy beneath the volley of gunfire from the forgotten TV.

Dan pulled back a little, allowing himself just enough space to push Max’s shirt up, running his hands in nervous fluttering movements over the exposed skin. Max closed his eyes and made desperate sounds, rolling his hips up every time Dan’s fingers strayed close to his waistband.

“Yeah?” Dan murmured, running his fingers along the elasticated waistband of Max’s pants. When Max didn’t answer immediately, he nudged at Max with his nose, brushing light kisses against his jaw. Max opened his eyes and shifted his weight up on to his elbows so he could watch the hypnotic path Dan’s fingers traced on his skin. He had been right: the soft grey jersey of his jogging bottoms left little to the imagination, his cock tenting the fabric obscenely. He glanced at Dan’s face, feeling somehow on show, but Dan too was focused on the movement of his own hand, apparently building up his courage to move his hand lower.

“Yes,” Max ground out, rolling his hips again, turning his head to seek out Dan’s lips again. “ _Please,_ Dan.”

A brief smile broke the intensity of Dan’s expression, and Max laughed, feeling his cheeks redden. He hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but he felt like he was going to die if Daniel didn’t touch his dick soon. “Okay,” Dan said thoughtfully, more to himself than anything else. He reached out and ran his fingers experimentally down the thick line of Max’s erection through the thin grey fabric. Max groaned and let his head fall back on to the pillow, breathing out slowly in an attempt to control himself.

Emboldened by Max’s reaction, Dan cupped his hand, pressing the heel of his palm down and dragging his fist slowly up and down the length of Max’s cock, stretching the fabric tight across his heated skin. 

“God,” Max said, rolling his hips. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds and then decided he didn’t want to miss seeing any of this and pushed himself up on shaky elbows once again. Dan’s hand moved slowly over him, a wet patch darkening the pale fabric over the throbbing tip of his cock. Max leaned up and caught Dan in a bruising kiss, too turned on to bother with finesse. With one hand, he pushed down his trousers, gasping as his sensitised cock hit the cool air.

Dan broke the kiss to look down, pressing his forehead to Max’s as though overwhelmed and reaching down to help him push his joggers off all the way. He urged Max’s shirt over his head and pulled back to remove his own, while Max got to work on the stiff buttons of Dan’s jeans with shaking, uncooperative hands. 

The moment Dan had disentangled himself from his jeans and boxers, he rolled Max over so he lay fully on his back once again, pressing their naked bodies together. Their cocks slid against each other, hot slick skin, making them both gasp and clutch at each other. Dan licked his hand and reached between them, palming them both clumsily.

Max dug his fingers into Dan’s shoulders, thrusting mindlessly against his teammate. Already he felt his balls tightening, that delicious spiralling heat building in his stomach, and he forced himself to take deep breaths, trying to calm himself. 

His sudden reticence must have been apparent to Dan, because the older man pulled back a little, struggling to catch his own breath. “You good?” he said. His voice was gravelly, lower than usual, desire clear in his tone.

“Yeah,” Max said. His own voice sounded shaky to his ears. “It’s just too much.” He saw an expression of mild alarm cross Dan’s face and clutched at him before he could pull back, holding him in place. “No! Not like that. I mean it’s too good, I can’t last much longer.”  


Dan made a strangled sound, a laugh mixed with a broken moan, his hips moving of their own accord against Max. “You know that’s kind of the point, right?”

Max laughed breathlessly, pushing at Dan’s shoulder to get him to lie back. “Not yet. I want to wait. Let me suck you.”

“Oh my God,” Dan said faintly, allowing Max to push him into his back and pressing one hand over his eyes. “I can’t really say no to that.”  

Max slid back until he was crouched between Dan’s legs, trying to ignore his sudden nerves. He took Dan’s cock in an experimental grip, stroking it slowly, breathing in the scent of sex and sweat it gave off. A thin stream of liquid oozed from the tip already, and Max ducked his head and lapped it up tentatively. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Daniel said with feeling, fisting his hands into the sheets and fidgeting, obviously fighting to keep his hips from thrusting into the wet heat. Max parted his lips and allowed the tip of Dan’s cock to slide between them, holding it in place in a loose fist. He was surprised at the sensation of power that swept over him as he began to suck, the feeling of giving pleasure making him shudder and his cock pulse against his stomach. 

Dan groaned, breathy, his back arching off the bed. He raised a hand and ran his fingers across Max’s face, feeling the hollow of his cheeks where he sucked. Max whimpered around Dan’s cock, leaning into the touch. Dan brought his hand around to cup the back of Max’s neck, not quite urging him on, a reassuring pressure and counterpoint to the barely contained movement of his hips. 

Max grew bolder, his natural tendency to show off overriding his initial nerves. He breathed in deeply and took Dan’s cock in as far as he could, tilting his head to allow for its slight upward curve. He was rewarded with Dan gasping his name, and he moaned in response, head swimming with his own desire. He experimented, pulling back to tease the tip with a pointed tongue then dipping lower to nuzzle further back. 

Dan cursed under his breath, rolling his hips obscenely. His cock was dark red, balls drawn up tight, chest heaving. Max lifted his head, his own hands shaking with the intensity where they rested against Dan’s hip. Arousal had him feeling drugged. “Come here,” Dan muttered, urging Max up. Max slid up his body, meeting Dan in a messy kiss. Dan rolled them sideways, hooking one leg over Max’s and pressing their bodies together so tightly it almost hurt. Max thrust into the tight slick heat between their bodies, his cock sliding wetly over Dan’s, until all of a sudden his orgasm was upon him, a pinpoint of pleasure between his legs and radiating up his spine, so intense he could only cling on to Dan and shake against him. 

He was still trembling, struggling to catch his breath, when Dan tipped him onto his back and knelt above him, working himself with one hand fast and dirty. Max blinked sweat out of his eyes and drank in the sight above him. Daniel’s tanned skin was wet with sweat and almost glowing, his hair damp and curling across his forehead. The muscles in his stomach clenched, veins in his arm standing out in prominent relief. He gasped, a short sharp inhalation, tipped his head back to expose the long lines of his throat, and came across Max’s still hard cock and stomach, making him gasp at the sudden wet heat. 

After a few moments, Dan slowly lowered himself to the bed beside Max, letting out a long breath. Max had a vague feeling that he ought to be panicking about what had taken place, but in actual fact he was filled with a curious sense of well-being which didn’t at all match the circumstances.

“So,” Dan said conversationally, once he was able to speak. “That happened, huh?”

Max looked across at him. Dan was staring at the ceiling with a grin that could only be described as smug. He spluttered with laughter despite himself. “It did.”

Dan met his gaze, his smile widening. Yes, Max decided, smug was the word for it. He couldn’t really blame him. Dan leaned over and pressed his mouth to Max’s, a slower kiss than before, his hand cupping Max’s jaw. He nipped lightly at Max’s bottom lip, making him whimper in a way he would have found embarrassing had he had the presence of mind. 

“Quite a mouth you’ve got on you,” Dan said, his lips brushing Max’s. As usual, he sounded like he was on the verge of laughter.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Max said. “You didn’t even get the full effect.”

Dan did laugh then, tilting Max’s head back to press kisses along his jaw. “Sounds to me like you’ve got a lot to prove.”

“Do you doubt me?” Max said, letting his eyes fall closed and bringing one hand up to comb lazily through Dan’s sweat-dampened hair. He felt, for the moment, utterly at peace.

“Not for a second.”


End file.
